The Decagon House Murders (10 page)

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Authors: Yukito Ayatsuji

BOOK: The Decagon House Murders
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It had been too sinister to joke or talk lightly about. But it was also too unrealistic to discuss seriously. Each of them still had the contents of the kitchen drawer in mind and none of them stopped trying to read the others’ thoughts, but they all acted as if the whole event hadn’t happened.

After eating the sandwich lunch made by Agatha and Orczy, they left the table one by one.

Carr was the first to get up. He went outside on his own, holding a couple of paperbacks and rubbing his long, freshly-shaven chin. Poe and Van stood up in turn and went to Poe’s room.

 

*

 

‘And back to business,’ said Poe in his deep voice as he sat down on the floor.

The seven guest rooms in the Decagon House all had the same layout. In the centre of the blue carpet in Poe’s room lay the scattered pieces of a jigsaw puzzle he had just started.

‘Two thousand pieces? Can you finish it during our stay?’

Avoiding stepping on the puzzle, Van walked to the back of the room and sat down on the edge of the bed.

A smile appeared from behind Poe’s long beard.

‘Just wait and see. I’ll finish it.’

‘But you also want to go fishing, don’t you? And there’s the story for the club magazine.’

‘There’s more than enough time. But first, I need to find this guy’s nose.’

The outline of the puzzle had already been completed and took up almost one
tatami
mat. Beside it lay the upper lid of the puzzle box with the illustration of the completed puzzle. Poe rummaged amongst the little pieces while staring at the illustration.

It was a photograph of six foxes playing in a field. A large mother fox, surrounded by five cute cubs. The nose of one of the five cubs was the problem Poe was grappling with at the moment.

‘Hmm? What’s the matter, Van?’ Poe asked anxiously, when he noticed Van’s head was hanging wearily and his hands were on his knees.

‘Still feeling sick?’

‘Yes, a little.’

‘I’ve got a thermometer in my bag. Take your temperature. You can lie down if you want.’

‘Thanks.’

Van put the thermometer under his arm and allowed his slim body to sink into the bed. He stroked his brownish, soft hair as he looked at Poe.

‘So. What do you think?’

‘Hmm—ah, here it is. Got it,’ said Poe, and he grabbed a little piece of the puzzle.

‘Good, good. What did you say, Van?’

‘What happened this morning. What do you think?’

Poe’s hand stopped and he sat up straight.

‘About that.…’

‘Was it really just a prank?’

‘I think it was.’

‘So, why didn’t anybody admit to it then?’

‘There may be more to follow.’

‘More?’

‘Yes. The prank isn’t over yet.’

Poe’s fingers disappeared into his beard as he stroked his jaw.

‘Just an idea I had. For example, tonight the coffee of one of us might be spiked with salt. And that would be “The First Victim.”’

‘Aha.’

‘And with a sly smile on his face, our “Murderer” will commit one crime after another. So, just a big murder game.’

‘Oh, a murder game.’

‘It might be a stupid idea, but it’s a lot more realistic than cowering in the fear that actual murders have been announced.’

‘True, it’s not as if we’re characters in a story. Murders don’t just happen like that. Yes, I’m sure you’re right. But Poe, who do you think is behind this game then?’

‘Well, the one most likely to come up with such a game is Ellery, of course. But he seems to be taking on the role of “The Detective.”’

‘Now that you mention it, do you remember Ellery yelling: “Anybody want to challenge me?” yesterday? This might be an answer to that.’

‘I don’t know about that. If you’re right though, that would mean that “The Murderer” is one of the three people who were there: you, me or Leroux. But those plates this morning had to have been made in advance, didn’t they?’

‘I see what you mean. And the only people besides Ellery who might plan a prank like this are Leroux or Agatha.…’

‘But it still could be Ellery. You know the plot where the detective turns out to be the murderer.’

‘The way Ellery took control of the situation this morning was rather
too
impressive.…’

‘Hmm—and the thermometer, Van?’

‘Ah, I’d forgotten about it.’

Van sat up straight and took the thermometer out from under his cardigan. He looked at it, frowned and handed it to Poe.

‘You really do have a fever.’

Poe looked at Van’s face.

‘Your lips look dry as well. How’s your head?’

‘Hurts a little.’

‘You need rest today. Got any medicine?’

‘I got some over-the-counter drugs for a cold.’

‘They’ll do. You’d better go to bed early today. You don’t want it to get any worse while you’re on a trip.’

‘I’ll do as you say, Doctor,’ answered Van in a hoarse voice, as he fell back on the bed and stared vacantly at the ceiling.

 

*

 

Having cleaned up after lunch, Agatha and Orczy made themselves some tea and took a rest in the hall.

‘Oof, will it be like this for six days? I can’t believe cooking for seven is so much work.’

Agatha leaned back in her chair.

‘Look, Orczy, my hands have become rough because of the dish soap.’

‘I’ve got some hand cream.’

‘Me too. I always massage my hands with some cream.’

‘You really have a lady’s hands.’

Agatha grinned and loosened the scarf that held her hair. Orczy gave her a slight smile back, grasped the decagonal cup in her small hands and took a sip.

‘Orczy.’

Agatha looked in the direction of the kitchen and suddenly changed the topic.

‘What do you think those plates mean?’

Orczy shuddered and shook her head silently.

‘It was really scary this morning, but after I thought about it, it really might just be a prank. What do you think?’

‘I don’t know.’ Orczy looked around anxiously. ‘Everyone says they don’t know anything about it, even though there’s nothing to hide if it’s just a joke.…’

‘Orczy, that’s precisely it.’

‘Wha—?’

‘Maybe we just took it too seriously. In other words, the one who did it felt badly about having pulled a prank.’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Well, who do you think the culprit is?’

‘….’

‘It might be Ellery. But he isn’t the type to feel badly about anything, so we can rule him out. Maybe it’s little Leroux.’

‘Leroux?’

‘You know how he is. Leroux’s head is always full of detective fiction. He probably thought it’d be funny to frighten us all with that joke.’

Orczy looked away, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. She receded uncomfortably into her chair.

‘I’m scared.’

It was as if she were talking to herself.

Those were her true thoughts.  Those plates—she just couldn’t believe it was just an innocent joke. She could sense some kind of malice behind them.

‘We shouldn’t have come to this island after all.’

‘Don’t say such things.’

Agatha laughed cheerfully.

‘Let’s go out and breathe in some fresh air after tea. This hall is gloomy, even in the afternoon. There’s a peculiar atmosphere here, because of these ten walls around us. It makes you worry more than necessary about little things.’

 

*

 

Sitting on the pier in the inlet, Ellery stared down into the depths.

‘I still think it’s weird, don’t you, Ellery?’ said Leroux, who was standing next to him.

‘—What?’

‘You know what I mean. Those plates this morning.’

‘Oh.’

‘You really weren’t the one behind it?’

‘Stop joking.’

They had been like this for some time. Leroux would say something and Ellery would just answer vaguely without even bothering to look at him.

‘But it would be just like you to prepare those plates, even for “The Detective” and “The Murderer.”’

‘Know nothing about them.’

‘Don’t act so crossly. I was just saying it would be like you.’

Leroux shrugged his round shoulders and crouched down.

‘But it was probably just a prank. Don’t you think so?’

‘No,’ answered Ellery bluntly and shoved his hands in his coat pockets.

‘I’d really like to think so, but I don’t.’

‘So why do you think it wasn’t?’

‘Because nobody admitted to it.’

‘That’s true.’

‘And too much effort went into it.’

Ellery turned around and looked Leroux in the eye.

‘It’d be different if it had been some pencil writings on pieces of drawing paper. But someone has gone to the effort of cutting those plastic plates to the same size, preparing forms for the lettering and spraying the plates with red paint. I wouldn’t have done all that just to give you a little scare.’

‘But—.’ Leroux removed his glasses and started to wipe them clumsily. ‘Are you saying that there really will be murders?’

‘I think there’s a strong possibility.’

‘Bu—how can you say that so calmly? A murder…that means someone will die. Someone will be killed. And not just one person. If those plates are announcing all our murders in advance, then there’ll be five victims. It’s just unbelievable.’

‘Sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?’

‘It is ridiculous. This isn’t a film or a novel. Those plates have the same role as the infamous Indian figurines, right? If “The Murderer” kills “The Detective” and commits suicide at the end, then it’ll be precisely like
And Then There Were None
.’

‘Apparently.’

‘And why should we be murdered anyway, Ellery?’

‘Why ask me?’

After that, the two stared in silence at the waves crashing on the rocks. Compared to the day before, the waves were rougher and louder. The water was also darker.

Eventually, Ellery stood up.

‘Leroux, I’m going back. It’s cold out here.’

 

 

4

 

The noise of waves resonated in the overhead darkness, sounding   like the rough snoring of a giant. It served to increase their anxiety and their feeling of impending doom.

The gloomy decagonal hall where they had just finished their dinner was dim in the weak light of the oil lamp.

‘They make me feel sick,’ Agatha said after she had given everyone coffee. ‘These walls. My eyes hurt just from looking at them.’

The ten white walls which gleamed in the light of a single lamp. They were theoretically at a 144 degree angle to one another, but, depending on the light, the angles sometimes appeared rounder and sometimes sharper. In contrast, the table in the centre of the room always retained its decagonal shape, which made the walls seem even more distorted.

‘Really, they make me dizzy.’

Van rubbed his bloodshot eyes.

‘Go to bed early, Van. You still don’t look too well,’ Poe admonished him.

‘Still feeling sick?’ Agatha put a hand to Van’s forehead. ‘You have a fever. You need to go to bed, Van.’

‘I’m okay. It’s only seven o’clock.’

‘It’s not okay. We’re on an uninhabited island here. We don’t have a real doctor with us. What if your fever turns worse?’

‘—All right.’

‘Did you take some medicine?’

‘I’ll take it before I sleep. It makes you sleepy.’

‘Take it now and go sleep then. Better safe than sorry.’

‘Okay.’

Van stood up, like a child being told by his mother. Agatha brought a water jug and a glass from the kitchen and gave them to him.

‘Well, good night,’ said Van and he walked to the door of his room.

But then….

‘What’re you planning to do, hiding in your dark little room so early?’

It was Carr’s low, deep voice. Van’s hand, which was reaching for the doorknob, stopped in mid-air. He turned round.

‘I’m going to sleep, Carr.’

‘Well. And there I was thinking you were going to sharpen your knife.’

‘What do you mean?’

Carr chuckled at Van’s angry question.

‘You know, I think that it was you who announced our murders this morning.’

‘Van, ignore him and go to sleep,’ said Ellery.

‘Wait, Ellery,’ Carr continued in an ingratiating voice. ‘Considering the circumstances, don’t you think that it’s only normal to suspect Van?’

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